Page 26 of Gunslinger Girl
“I’m not an actress.”
“And I told you,” he said, “it’s not that kind of theatre.”
Halcyon Singh’s Theatre Vespertine… Meeting Halcyon only added a new layer of peculiarity to the words. “What do they expect me to do?”
“Shoot things, I suppose,” said Max. “Leave that to Halcyon. He’s a genius with the details.”
Pity stared at her feet. “I… I don’t think…”
Adora sighed. “What Max is trying to communicate,” she said, her back to them, “is that you have been offered a coveted position. Performers in the Theatre Vespertine are entitled to generous wages, room and board, and all of Casimir’s luxuries.”
“As I recall,” Pity said, “I was offered a chance.”
Adora turned her head, gazing at Pity with sly cat’s eyes. “And you can see for what tomorrow evening. Halcyon has quite a show in store.”
The elevator doors opened. For a minute they were back among the revelry of the main hall, until Adora ushered them through one of the arched exits that lined the walls. From there, Casimir became a disorienting maze of hallways and stairways.
“This way.” Adora turned down a long hall, stopping before the door at the very end. She punched a code into the keypad. The door opened. “Max, show her around. I have to get back to more important things.” She smiled frostily at Pity. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Uh, sure,” she said. “Thank—” But Adora was already walking away. Pity stared after her. “She’s…”
“About as pleasant as a mouthful of sour milk?” Max said. “Don’t take it personally. Adora isn’t nice to anyone. But she does her job well. If Beau is Miss Selene’s gun, Adora is her pen. Well, go on in.”
Automatic lights flickered on as she entered, illuminating a room at least ten paces on each side. A huge bed took up much of the space, but there was a small sofa, a table, and a wardrobe against one wall.
“This is for me?”
“Like Adora said: luxuries. Miss Selene wants you to know what you have to gain.”
“I guess so.” She paused a few steps in, feeling like a trespasser. “How long does it take to get used to this sort of fancy?”
“Actually…” Max hesitated. “My room is in the basement. I tend to be messy, and no one cares if a little paint gets splattered around there. Not so impressive, but I prefer it.”
The bed looked like a coat of fresh snow had fallen on it. When Pity pressed her hands into the comforter, they sank to the wrist.
“Makes you want to jump right in, doesn’t it?”
“Lord, yes.” Her body ached for rest. It had been days since she had slept in a real bed. Then again, her definition of real bed paled in comparison to what lay before her. “But it’s so clean and I’m filthy.”
“You’re not the only one.” Max sniffed his shirt and made a face. “Hazards of travel. I’d better get washed up, too. If there’s a performance tomorrow, I’ll have work waiting.” His expression turned serious. “I’m sorry about upstairs. That’s not how I expected things to play out. But you did good—really good. Selene was impressed. I could tell.”
“Not that impressed.”
“Listen to Halcyon. Do what he says, and she’ll be begging you to stay.”
Who says I want to? Now was the time, Pity thought. She had her guns back, and she had seen Cessation. It was real, and it was dangerous. Max had promised to put her on the train if she wanted… All she had to do was ask.
And where would I go? She couldn’t return to the commune, and she hadn’t forgotten what Olivia had said about the eastern cities. She had no supplies, no connections, and no currency. She and Finn might have made it together, but alone? Her eyes burned.
“Max”—she pushed the words past the lump in her throat—“who is Miss Selene?”
“She’s the person who keeps Cessation from descending into chaos,” he replied. “Without her it would all fall apart. Miss Selene controls the Theatre, the Tin Men, and Casimir. She prevents lawlessness from taking over the city.”
“I thought there was no law in Cessation.”
“There’s not,” he said. “Except for Selene’s law. Everyone knows not to cross her.”
She gave him a pointed look. “What about Beeks?”
